


Promises, promises.

by Pineapple_Strawberries_15



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Character Death, District 12, F/M, Primarily Katniss and Gale, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineapple_Strawberries_15/pseuds/Pineapple_Strawberries_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss remembers and revisits, as does Gale- and they find they walk with the same rhythm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises, promises.

In the summer, when the grass was dry and the gravel wet from spit and hydrants, she found herself in the heat, picking wildflowers. Most of the forest had been cut down throughout the years, to build more houses to contain the districts citizens more appropriately, so green became the ground theme. She sighed, moving beyond the field, beyond the houses, into the brown of wood. Her bow hung on one rounded shoulder, arrows at her hip- the air smelt crisp despite the rot the heat brought. The deeper she went, the quieter it got, the hum from the town sounding more like a flies wings. There came a rustling, she paused, boots digging into the dirt, eying the area. She spun swiftly on her heel, arrow at the ready against the caress of the sturdy bows cord; ready to kill.  
“Woah there, Catnip.” 

She narrowed her eyes, “Gale, I could have hurt you. . . or worse.” The bow went back around her shoulders, arrow back in it's holder; he was grinning un-apologetically, the lines around his mouth and eyes showing nothing besides amusement. One calloused finger rose to her braid, fingering the silver rope as though it were the texture of one of the tiny petals of a dandelion, “what's a person your age doing about these woods at this time of day?” he asked innocently, Katniss slugged his arm with a smirk, “I don't know, old man, I could ask you the same question.” 

They smiled at one another, their bodies a checkerboard of lights and darks- sunshine beaming through the holes the leaves of the trees forgot to cover. A white glare from her eye glinted as it rolled down to her boots, “the anniversary, right?” Gale asked, receiving a somber nod. “Catnip. . . it's been ten years, still?” Another nod greeted the man, his broad shoulders rose slightly, strong, but soft, working arms enveloped her. 

Katniss rested her head against her old friend's soft chest, she felt soft against him, the curves that had developed over the years fitting finely with Gale. “Ten years. . .” she murmured with a sigh, “another one next year, another one the next, and so on until I die. Not something the stops just because one person dies before the other.” He only nodded, and they stood there wrapped in each other. 

The cicadas chanted through the waves of heat, and the deafening silence of reality, a hawks craa-scrkkkch sliced to their ear drums and they pulled apart. “I'll make you a deal.” He said, “you celebrate our anniversary next year, and I can promise you won't have to mourn it.” Her eyes closed, the blue coloring around them displaying the years of hard nights; “Gale. . .” came the tired sigh, but she looked up at him and patted his shoulder, “don't make a promise you can't keep.” 

Gale pursed his lips and then flattened them sternly, she began grinning- cheeks round and red and beautiful, her plump pink lips pressed against his own- a cold feel warming after several moments, one of her gentle hands against his smooth scalp. When they separated he eyed her suspiciously, “I didn't hear a no.” She lightly backhanded his arm and headed back towards town, Gale traveling behind her. As they made their way through the forest and into the field of crisp drying grasses of wheat and lime colors, Katniss grasping Gales hand, she found that they walked in rhythm beside another. 

Three years later she found that their rhythm had always been a present. She confirmed this the night she laid beside him between smooth cool sheets, their warm bodies brushing one another. Her breath was soft against his neck, her heart stuttering underneath his hand, her own hand vibrating the same. His eyes glistened in the moonlight, their heads heavy against the pillows. 

~Gale kept his promise.~


End file.
